


The Detective Inspector and The British Government

by S_G_M



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cute, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Gay, M/M, Male Homosexuality, One True Pairing, Sherlock - Freeform, Sweet, True Love, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 19:43:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1197090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_G_M/pseuds/S_G_M
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg Lestrade and Mycroft Holmes find themselves in a somewhat unexpected relationship, but will it lead to a happily ever after?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Detective Inspector and The British Government

The alarm clock blared at an offensively loud volume, startling Greg Lestrade out of a pleasantly deep slumber.

He fumbled groggily for the snooze button, hitting it after a few misses, before pulling the warm covers back over his naked body.

Greg had forgotten to cancel the alarm for that morning, as he often did when he finally elected to take a day off.

Of course, despite doing his best to fall back into rejuvenating sleep, he just couldn’t accomplish it.

He sighed, and chose to have some breakfast and start the day.

It was only 06:37, and he’d hoped to sleep in for the first time in weeks.

As Greg pulled on a pair of blue pinstriped pyjama bottoms, he remembered that Mycroft would be stopping by the flat that afternoon.

His heart began to beat just a little faster at this thought.

Mild anticipation began to creep into him, and any tired feeling that he’d previously felt were swept away.

Greg and Mycroft had been going out for a few months now, and Greg was finding himself feeling as he hadn’t in years.

He felt similar to how he had when he was a teenager; energetic, self-conscious, and over-sexed.

Since getting to know Mycroft as he had, since developing feelings for him, Greg had become cheerier than he’d been in such a long time.

He was laughing and smiling more, frowning less, and he was looking at most things in a more positive light.

 

 

After a breakfast of cold cereal, Greg gave his flat a swift tidy, before heading to the shoppe for a few things.

On the way, he bumped into John Watson, who was currently on his way to pick up some milk.

“So, what are your plans for the day?” John inquired politely, making small talk.

Greg cheeks ruddied slightly, as he cleared his throat.

“Oh, just having some company over…” He replied vaguely, giving a slight shrug.

John nodded shrewdly. 

“So, you and Mycroft are hitting it off pretty well, then?” John asked genuinely, before directly regretting his words.

Naturally, Sherlock had easily divined that his brother Mycroft and Greg were dating, and had shared this information with John.

Greg hadn’t realised that either of them had known about his relationship, and John’s question had caught him off guard.

“Sherlock…” Greg said in annoyance, not entirely shocked that the consulting detective had worked it out.

John looked embarrassed and nodded.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” John apologised, feeling like a complete arse.

While Greg had not expected John to have known about the situation, he knew that John cared about him, which is why he’d asked such a question.

They’d been friends for years, now, and Greg supposed that he didn’t really mind that John knew.

“Don’t worry about it.” Greg told him, knowing that John would keep the information to himself.

John bit his lip.

“Let me make it up to you, let me buy you a cup of coffee or something.” John offered, knowing that it wouldn’t make much difference, though it would make himself feel a bit better about things.

Greg glanced down at his watch.

It had been a while since they sat down and actually talked, and it wasn’t as though the shopping was all that urgent.

“Make it a lager, and you’re on.” Greg told him, motioning towards a decent pub across the street.

 

 

Meanwhile, Mycroft attended to some rather significant business with the Indonesian president regarding massively incriminating evidence linking a prominent member of the royal family to the recent mass slaughter in Medan.

At least, that is what the president’s story was. 

It didn’t take very long for Mycroft to discern that the so-called evidence linking the royal to the killings was fictitious, though it had been remarkably well-fabricated and that the man before him was not the president, but rather, a doppelganger.

A doppelganger sent on a suicide mission to take Mycroft out.

Mycroft Holmes was a very significant, and exceptionally dangerous, man.

There were a number of people who would have happily executed him, though that came with the territory.

With Mycroft dead, the British government would have lost one of its top men, if not the most vital.

And that would have been a substantial loss to the United Kingdom, he would be virtually impossible to replace.

 

Mycroft tapped his umbrella on the wooden floor, a satisfying click echoing off of the walls.

The ‘president’, not realising that his façade hadn’t held up, continued speaking pleasantly.

Mycroft toyed with the maple handle of his umbrella, observing the man before him closely.

He was a dash insulted that the Indonesian officials had felt that he’d be deceived by such an appallingly bad act.

The average person might have been easily swayed, but Mycroft was far too intelligent to fall for such a ruse.

He yawned, feeling terribly bored, as the doppelganger reached for the pen in his jacket pocket, which would have detonated a powerful explosion had the cap been removed.

In one swift motion, Mycroft pulled a thin, yet surprisingly sturdy, sword out of the umbrella’s metal pole.

He deftly inserted the sword into the man’s heart, killing him instantaneously.

Considering how daft the assassin had been, it was entirely likely that Mycroft could have been as bold as to have texted someone to have the man removed and jailed.

However, that would not have sent a distinct message to the people who’d sent the killer.

No, this was the more effective course of action.

Mycroft stood up, wiping the blade clean with a moist towelette, before sheathing it back into the seemingly innocent umbrella.

He looked coolly down at the body, stepping on the small obscured button to signal that he required assistance.

Two tall men marched in, spotted the corpse, and directly set about cleaning up.

Mycroft left them to it, and after noticing the time, headed out to pick up a gift for Greg.

 

 

“Really? Fourteen years since you were with someone you actually felt something for?” John asked incredulously.

Greg nodded, finishing his pint, and ordering a second.

“I know… With a bad marriage behind me and being so involved with the job, I just sort of… Gave up, I suppose.” He tried to explain, the alcohol beginning to relax him. “I’ve never been fond of the dating scene and at my age… Well, I pretty much resigned myself to the fact that the chances of finding someone were pretty slim.”

John frowned.

“What are you talking about?” He asked with a shake of his head. “You’re not that old and you’re a decent looking guy with a great personality. You don’t even notice the sort of attention that you get sometimes, do you?” 

Greg raised an eyebrow.

“Honest. I’ve noticed quite a few women and men checking you out. I don’t know how you can be so oblivious to it.” John added truthfully.

Greg wasn’t sure what to say to this, and he gave John a mildly questioning look.

John nodded. “In fact, I can tell you that Davison at the front desk has a thing for you.” He stated bluntly.

Greg’s eyes widened.

“Davison? Are you sure?” He asked in surprise, taking a swallow of the freshly drawn lager.

John chuckled in amusement.

“Well, he hasn’t been letting his eyes linger on you like that because he’s bored.” John smiled.

Greg hadn’t had a clue.

Davison was slightly taller than John, average build, with a fantastic arse and the face of a model.

To think that someone like Davison found him attractive came as a bit of an ego boost, as well as a surprise.

“Well, I could’ve used that information before, you know!” Greg teased John, who wondered why he hadn’t said anything about it when it would have actually mattered.

After a bit more talk, mainly about how John and Mary were coping with their two year old daughter’s tantrums, they finished their beverages and after getting their shopping, went their respective ways.

 

As Greg strutted back to the flat, he began to feel that giddy exhilaration again.

He couldn’t believe how fond he’d grown of Mycroft, and hoped that the feelings he was experiencing were mutual.

It had been so long since he’d wanted someone this badly, in more than just carnal lust.

Mycroft was so different than anyone else he’d ever met, and though he hated how clichéd it sounded, he had to admit that it was entirely true.

Mycroft was complicated, incredibly intelligent, entirely confident, and understanding.

Greg felt absolutely wonderful around him, as though a certain part of him came out only around Mycroft. 

There had been no need for forced smiles, strained small talk, or uncomfortable silences due to having nothing to say.

It had been instant chemistry, and Greg had been able to easily be himself, with no pretences.

Mycroft seemed to instinctively know what it was that Greg had needed from the beginning, and had been quite genuinely giving about it.

Greg took a deep breath, the cool spring air making him feel refreshed.

He let his mind wander wherever it would, as he walked home feeling entirely carefree.

 

 

Mycroft glanced down at the selection of men’s jewellery in a very high-end shop, thinking that a nice chain would look quite dashing around Greg’s pale neck.

He settled on a 24 kt gold anchor link chain, one that would glitter nicely among the smattering of curly silver chest hair.

Mycroft was confident that Greg would appreciate such a gift, though he’d never detected any sort of jewellery on him before.

And, after having the item wrapped in fine scarlet paper and tied with a simple gold ribbon, he strode out to his car and seated himself in the back.

On the way to Greg’s flat, he decided to pick up a vintage merlot for them to both enjoy that afternoon.

Or perhaps that evening, depending on what sort of events might occur.

Mycroft began to vividly fantasise about the sorts of things he’d wanted to do to Greg, but had restrained himself from doing.

He knew that something substantial was quite likely budding between them, and didn’t want to obfuscate things with intercourse.

Sex was all well and good, but it had its place.

Still, when the time came…

 

 

Greg had only just gotten home and glanced at the timepiece on his wall, when he realised that he only had another fifteen minutes or so until his guest arrived.

He quickly tidied up once more

Since he wasn’t often at home, there really wasn’t that much of an opportunity to make any real mess, but he wanted to make certain that things were as perfect as was possible.

Greg tucked away an extra pair of shoes, straightened the sofa cushions, and did a quick bit of dusting, before he heard the doorbell.

He swiftly ran his fingers through his short grey hair, smoothing any unruly locks, before answering the door.

“Good afternoon, Gregory.” Mycroft greeted him in a warm tone, as he walked in and removed his footwear.

“Afternoon.” Greg replied, noticing that Mycroft’s hair was just a touch curlier than usual.

He rather liked it.

“Would you like a cup of tea? I just put the kettle on.” Greg offered, and Mycroft agreed to one.

 

 

As they sat in the den, both men were a little quieter than usual.

The sexual tension between them was more than tangible, and it was becoming unbearable.

Greg cleared his throat, feeling slightly awkward.

He’d forgotten his cup of tea on the coffee table, and was absentmindedly tapping his foot.

“Is something the matter, my dear?” Mycroft inquired gently, knowing just what it was that was getting to Greg, but being polite enough not to mention it.

If Greg broached the subject, however, that was entirely different.

Greg licked his lips, considering being open and honest, despite having the distinct feeling that Mycroft could nearly read his mind.

He stood up, wiping his clammy palms on his trousers.

Greg sat down next to Mycroft on the sofa.

He looked almost searchingly into Mycroft’s icy blue eyes, before leaning slowly in, pressing their lips together.

Greg closed his eyes, feeling his lust grow as he slipped his tongue into Mycroft’s mouth, tasting him greedily.

He felt Mycroft’s strong hands bringing his body closer, pulling Greg into his lap.

The kiss went on for some time, their hands leisurely exploring each other’s bodies while their tongues danced feverishly.

Mycroft had considered putting a stop to it, and had momentarily broke away, fully prepared to explain to Greg why continuing on this way could impact their relationship deleteriously.

But, from the moment Greg had instigated that kiss, Mycroft had realised that as much as Greg was craving this, so was he.

And, if whatever ensued changed their relationship for the worse, he would just have to try his damnedest to remedy it.

 

They spent the next three hours making ardent love, falling deeper for one another as their bodies moved as one.

Greg had never experienced anything near this before, and the raw intimacy and pure sensation of it made his head swim.

The sex he’d had in the past absolutely paled in comparison, and this encounter would forever ruin him for anyone else.

Afterward, they had a languid shower together, cleansing one another as their bodies began to recover from the hearty exercise.

There was very little verbally spoken, however, multitudes were communicated in other ways.

Merely the way that they looked at one another made everything perfectly clear.

There was no doubt whatsoever that Greg and Mycroft were united in love, and as of that day, officially monogamous.

 

After that point, Greg and Mycroft spent far more time together.

It was only a matter of weeks before Mycroft considered asking Greg to marry him, though he chose not to.

Not quite yet.

Mycroft never spoke about it, but it really wasn’t so long ago that he was a married man.

A matter of eight years ago, he’d been married to a fine man by the name of Alexander.

They’d known each other for a number of years before getting married, despite being very much in love long before the wedding.

Alexander was one of the very select few people that Mycroft had permitted himself to become close to, and to truly love.

And, the happy couple were together for seven and a quarter years, before Alexander tragically passed away due to heart failure.

Mycroft hadn’t had a real relationship since that point, not being able to bear the thought of leaving himself vulnerable to such pain again.

He had become so wholly miserable after losing Alexander, that he had briefly considered committing suicide.

It took quite some time, but eventually, he managed to improve.

Even so, Mycroft never had found himself able to part with his wedding band, which he still wore in remembrance of his lost love.

And yet, after meeting Greg for the first time, Mycroft began to develop somewhat of a fondness for the detective inspector.

The more that he vainly attempted to ignore it, the more prominently he felt the affection deepen.

Eventually, he gathered the nerve to ask Greg out.

Greg had easily agreed to the date, and at the end of the night out, Mycroft had invited Greg to dinner the following evening.

And, of course, many more dates followed.

 

As Greg lay sleeping next to him on the bed, Mycroft watched his dreaming lover, wondering how he’d ever let things get so far.

He swallowed hard, wondering if it was worth it.

Although Mycroft was loath to admit it, his younger brother’s confident allusions to his loneliness were entirely accurate.

But, his reasons for secluding himself in that fashion were, in his opinion, sensible.

Caring was not an advantage.

It left one vulnerable, open to all sorts of pain, when it was so easily avoidable.

Caring could shift a person’s point of view, blinding them at times.

And, if one was in a position of power, it could place those loved ones in a dangerous predicament.

For Mycroft, there were several reasons why caring was most certainly not an advantage.

Not that such reasons had prevented him from falling irrevocably in love with Greg.

Mycroft wouldn’t end this relationship, he found himself too weak to do so.

Not that he honestly wanted to.

The chances of losing Greg to death like he’d lost Alexander were slim enough, though that didn’t stand to ease any worries that Mycroft had.

He wasn’t convinced that he’d be able to endure another loss such as that.

Greg stirred in his sleep, turning and snuggling into Mycroft’s side.

Mycroft smiled gently, enjoying having Greg next to him.

Whatever happened, he would simply have to do his best to accept what came to pass.

He would relish each and every moment that they would spend together, and strive to be the best that he could for Greg.

 

 

Nearly a fortnight later, on the grounds of Mycroft’s estate just outside of London, the couple was walking leisurely beneath the twinkling night sky.

“Greg…” Mycroft began in a soft tone, his pulse elevating slightly. “I adore you more than I am able to tell you, and when we are apart, I feel a leaden desolation within my soul. You’ve become essential to me.”

They stopped walking, as Greg listened closely.

“I… Was married before. You already know this, as when you inquired in regards to my wedding band, I vaguely told you so.” Mycroft began, finding it challenging to go on, but needing to explain a little further.

“He… Alexander…” He paused, not having said the name for so long, feeling a twang of pain as suppressed memories flooded his brain.

He went on to explain what had happened, as Greg listened sombrely, despising the look of hurt in Mycroft’s eyes.

After a moment’s silence, Mycroft gave Greg a sad smile, before doing his best to replace it with a cheerier one.

“Now, I have you. And, I do love you, Greg, more than anything.” Mycroft added deeply, reaching out and grasping Greg’s left hand with his own.

“You are the only other man that I’ve allowed myself the pleasure of getting to know, that I find myself needing to spend the rest of my existence with.” Mycroft reached into his pocket, bringing out a small blue velvet covered box.

He bent down on one knee in front of Greg, opening the box to reveal a golden band with four diamonds embedded into it, glittering brilliantly in the moonlight.

Greg blinked, swallowing emotionally.

He was quite aware of Mycroft’s love for him, though he had never expected this.

Mycroft took a breath, looking deeply into Greg’s warm brown eyes.

“Gregory, my dear, will you do me the honour of becoming my husband?” He intoned profoundly, offering the ring.

Greg smiled, his breath hitching in his throat.

“Yes.” He nearly whispered, as his skin flushed and his heart hammered in his chest. “I… Yes, of course, My.”

Mycroft looked ever so slightly relieved as he grinned broadly.

He had expected Greg to agree to marry him; however, whenever his emotions got the better of him, it wasn’t as straightforward for him to read people.

There was always the possibility that Greg would have said ‘no’.

He got to his feet, happily placing the ring on Greg’s finger.

They locked lips, passionately embracing one another as time seemed to freeze around them.

 

 

The wedding was a small affair.

Most of Greg’s family had refused to attend the same sex wedding, which came as a disappointment, though not as much of a shock, considering their rather vocal religious views on the subject.

Mycroft’s parents, along with John and Mary, Sherlock, Anderson, and Molly were in attendance, along with a handful of others.

The reception was exquisite, and the personal vows that they had written for each other didn’t leave a dry eye in the house.

Even Sherlock let a few tears slip.

 

 

Afterwards, there was quite a celebration, considering how few people were there.

It was a magnificent occasion, and one that they would look back upon with great fondness in later years.

They honeymooned in Hawaii, bathing in the sun and true love.

And, even after returning home, for quite some time afterwards, it felt as though they were still on their honeymoon.

 

They spent the rest of their lives together, never entirely losing that honeymoon sensation and living happily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to go with less porn and more plot for a change.
> 
> I wrote this in one go on little sleep, so please do excuse any inconsistencies and/or grammar/spelling issues.  
> I did a once over to try and ensure quality, and I hope that most of you enjoyed this little work of fanfiction.
> 
> Thank-you so much for taking the time to read it.  
> You didn't have to, but you did. And for a slowly improving author, that means something.
> 
>  
> 
> ***If anyone has any story/kink prompts they'd like to suggest, please do so in the comments and I'll see about working them into an upcoming story.***


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